


Feast Fit for a King

by Ghanima_Starkiller



Category: Legend (1985)
Genre: F/M, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10102223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghanima_Starkiller/pseuds/Ghanima_Starkiller
Summary: Written for Porn Battle 2017, prompt words: dark, seduction, lick, table, fire, conjure





	

The fire shimmers like bloody jewels, reflecting off of the tarnished brass of the mirror that dominates the dining hall. Shadow drips from every corner like cobweb, darkness clings and trembles with desire. She sees herself in that warped brass, lovely and pale, resplendent in the black gown that molds itself to her slender body, revealing the white smoothness of her chest, of the sides of her perfect breasts. She doesn't want to watch, but nor can she look away, as her innocence tugs at her sleeve, begging her to turn.

This is the Darkness, it must be, conjuring these wicked images, a wanton Lily waving her arms as she dances, her body limber, twisting like a willow reed to the sound of music. Spreading herself over the banquet table, bowing backwards, the swan's curve of her exposed throat and chest caressed by the flickering flame. 

He towers over her, his horns casting twisted shadows that reach into the darkness. She opens her mouth, as she watches, but a protest is lost in her throat, as if her voice has been stolen from her; her shadow self mimics the action, but her black lips mime an 'O' as the prince of Darkness uses his large hands to peel the ebon velvet of her gown from her body, touches her breasts, and leans to flicker his long, forked tongue against the peaked tips. 

"No," she manages between tight lips, but her shadow doppelganger smiles as she says it, as he is parting her thighs and lifting them, exposing her to the feast. Hands, twisted, demonic, come from the table to hold her in place as he impales her soft pink sex on his greedy tongue. He licks and penetrates, torturing in particular that slick, fleshy pearl tucked in the folds of her womanhood. She writhes as she begs for release, something shuddering deep within her belly, something warm and sticky, something that she has never felt before. 

He stands, and between his arched legs is a thing like a beast, thick, red, bent but standing impossibly upright. She wants to scream, to touch and taste and explore, to push him away. He wraps his hand around the beast and strangles it, pumping fast, hard, with long, taloned fingers. His groans are deep, she feels them reverberate inside of her, pleasure so acute that he throws his head back with a roar. He erupts over her, drenching her in his thick seed; it is hot where it lands, and makes her shiver with delicious anticipation.   
"You will beg me for more," he purrs to her, running a hand up her flat stomach, cupping a breast and pinching the nipple between two fingers. 

"No," she gasps, and she is back on the other side of that polished brass mirror, standing there in her torn and dirtied dress, innocence still in hand. But there is the other her, the shadow with her wicked, sly smiles, lingering, lurking, and it is she who answers, "Yes."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle 2017, prompt words: dark, seduction, lick, table, fire, conjure


End file.
